Written by Louis Pelingen Looking back on Haley Heynderickx’s debut project is like observing a seedling grow into a lively tree, as there are a lot of elements within the record that keep on growing the more time passes by. Spanning across the pastoral writing wherein despite the generally loose themes – there is enough captivating poetry wading through, the rich performances that Haley Heynderickx offers with her striking vocals, as well as the well-produced and well-composed melodies that have enough enticingly warm progressions to allow them to stick a lot deeper. Since then, there has been a quiet period after I Need To Start A Garden, just before this year where she finally pulled together her sophomore record, Seed of a Seed. Within this long-awaited project, more awe-inspiring elements serve as an overall refinement of Haley Heynderickx’s debut output. The production is now much more organic in its mix where the expanded instrumentation and vocals nestle well to the point that it evokes a thrilling tone to these songs, the array of folk melodies have a lot of sticky charm from the instrumental refrains and the inviting chorus lines, and Haley Heynderickx’s presence as a vocalist soars further as she pulls more from her expanded vocal range that lands with ease – really letting these songs linger with charm from start to finish. The layers of strings, acoustics, and vocals render a harmonious touch on “Gemini” as they go on these lush melodic swings throughout the song, the ramping rhythmic shuffle of “Foxglove” that’s elevated further with Heynderickx’s rich vocal delivery, the emotive strings and the jangling acoustics on “Seed of a Seed” that never sounds so comforting on their warm tone, the glorious escapade of “Redwoods (Anxious God)” where the grand swells are encaptured by the melodic progressions that never lose their sweeping momentum, the arpeggiated guitar structure of “Jerry’s Song” that builds into this heavenly crescendo that the vocals land splendidly, and the aptly titled “Swoop” has these melodic structures from the acoustics and strings that swoops with a gleaming sway every time it goes to the chorus lines, ending the record with a gracefully strong finish. This is where Haley Heynderickx then also evolves as a writer, where there is at least a semblance of connecting themes spiraling within her mostly enthralling poetry. Still lingering within the pastoral touches that she has snuggled to a tee, yet there are some fascinating topics going through the details. The overall songwriting essentially grapples with the essence of growing older, whereas Haley Heynderickx is looking into a pastoral dream that may or may not be worth it in the long run amidst the indecisive frustration that comes with aging. Yet it is not just the only subject matter that she wanders through, where songs like “Seeds of a Seed”, “Mouth of a Flower”, and “Swoop”, there is a lingering reflection of generational divides and how Haley Heynderickx acknowledges that she is in a much better space than where her father, mother, and grandmother might have been back then. It adds an extra context to the overall themes, adding a subtle anxiousness in reflecting on growing older and looking to search for those dreams. That, paired with just how robust and big the melodies tend to be, does impart how much she is willing to be tossed over to that uncertain flow, where even if she did find a sense of gratitude on ‘Sorry Fahey’, it’s not going to stop her on reaching towards greater pastures in life. Perhaps, the big frustration within this record as much as it is enveloped with so many gleaming compositions all around it, might be in the writing itself. Not that it takes away from the refinements within, but there is that pastoral framing that creates a barrier on how much Haley Heynderickx’s reflections will stick further. Because as much as that personal arc can be traced the more time spent thinking through the concise poetry, this brand of pastoral beauty can be a double-edged sword, leading to gleaming musings that gesture towards those personal emotive touches rather than fully touching upon it. But despite those personal nitpicks in the writing, there are a lot of exceptional moments traced within Seed of a Seed. Brimming with some of Haley Heyndrickx’s strongest songs to date that come from the overall array of performances, compositions, production, and writing, this sophomore output ended up amusing. Even if the overall personal touches could have been observed with a closer look, the improvements are enough to make the project stand stronger than her debut. It might be just a seed of a seed, yet how it grows is all up to its control. Support the art and the artist:
Author: Louis Pelingen
ALBUM REVIEW: Shanne Dandan – Kung Iyong Mamarapatin
Written by Louis Pelingen Post-breakups leave everyone in touch with who they are. The pronounced pang of the breakup leaves a specific question on whether or not they are still worthy of falling in love, as well as if there is still a possibility of finding that romantic presence in the future. It’s an internal reflection that one must try to think deeply not just by wading through their introspections, but also by looking for an outlet that will help them release those deep-seated thoughts. After all, the path to searching for that answer and peace is shown in different ways – through conversations, poetry, films, music, etc. In perusing through this heartbreak, Shanne Dandan uses the outlet of music to allow her emotional undercurrent to spill through. On Kung Iyong Mamarapatin, she embraces a balanced set of contemporary smooth soul and vintage Manila sound that careens through with her stirring vocal runs, paired with well-composed song structures and supple production touches to allow Shanne’s presence become languishing within these mostly pretty soundscapes. Creating a well-structured flow that provides momentum to stumble less and lets these songs glide with their comforting grace. The quicker rhythmic shuffle of “Iyakin” from the drum passages and bass licks accompanies the glistening synth patches and Shanne’s sparking vocal deliveries that always cut through the striking hook, the wistful introspection of “What do I do with you?” with the waves of sweet synths and keys flying through the gentle melodies, the soulful glimmer of “di na babalik sa’yo” where the vocals pick up a self-assuring tone that very much fits with the sharper melodic snaps of the song, the genuinely pretty cover of Cherie Gil’s “Boy, I Love You” that’s laced with charming vocal coos amidst the gentler set of grooves and synth swells, and “Kung Iyong Mamarapatin” ending the record with a newfound sense of confidence running through the layers of lead melodies, backing vocals, and soaring instrumental flourishes. This set of songs eventually builds up the arc that Shanne Dandan has placed down, focusing on moving past a break-up where she self-doubts if she is worthy of happiness and love within future happenstance despite keeping up that smile that’s ever so fragile, yet she knows that it’s a step that leads her to slowly recover. Then, after “Gemini (Reprise)” Shanne finally regains her voice where she can confront that ex-partner, leaving them behind as she now finds a sense of joy in finally being able to speak up for herself and taking the next step forward to moving past that memory. And it is in “Kung Iyong Mamarapatin” wherein, through writing these songs, it is a way for her to recognize that she is still worthy of being loved. In creating music, she can sing these songs out for herself and pave a path where she’ll finally be able to settle into a relationship that she knows she is worthy of being in. Although, as much as the melodies, writing, and performances do give this album its charm, two problems distract away from that charm. For one, there could’ve been at least a few more songs that could give more weight to the arc of the album, especially as the songwriting does go for broader lyrical details and the album is already running a bit too short to land the emotional resonance it wants to impart. For two, it mostly comes from the production and how it treats the instrumentation of the record, where the mixing only lets the drums and guitars sound way too faint, and how there are points where there’s a lack of tender textural presence that would benefit certain songs – most notably on cuts like “Kung Iyong Mamarapatin” where the stiff drums are paired with thin sounding hand claps and “Boy, I Love You” that has these shaky vocal dubs that sadly pulls away from the magnetic presence that Shanne Dandan brings through her endearing performances. By the end of that, however, Kung Iyong Mamarapatin is sprinkled with potential that Shanne Dandan has showcased throughout the record, whether as a captivating singer and songwriter elevated further with melodies worth listening to. It’s just a shame that the production and brief runtime don’t build more of the emotional staying power that this album really wants to show, especially when there are moments where that resonance shines through in spades. Moving past that heartbreak reveals something special for everyone, validating their worth in finding that newfound love, and resurfacing the joy that provides everlasting comfort. Support the art and the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Fax Gang + Parannoul – Scattersun
Written by Louis Pelingen When reaching a sense of stability, there is no doubt that it’s sometimes a fleeting moment, a feeling that provides meditation and strength just before everybody has to push forward to the next phase of tension in their lives. On the last projects that Fax Gang and Parannoul have put out, this does ring true as they take a lot more effort to embrace the sense of the calm before the storm: Fax Gang offers more openly brighter melodies and textures on Dataprism and Parannoul moving away from the aghast distorted perks of his debut as he takes more dreamy wistfulness on After The Magic. So now that they’re both under Topshelf Records, the possibility of working once again since their collaboration on the last track of Dataprism feels like a star that can be reached, where the light keeps on burning brightly. And it sure does, as on Scattersun, Fax Gang and Parannoul merge their varying worlds in absolute delight. Within this project, Fax Gang and Parannoul’s musical chemistry bounces off in a way that resonates with their strengths as they leap off into various characteristics that morph into their own being – all filled with post-rock crescendos, eclectic sound design, distinctive production palette, and amorphous genre swervings that Fax Gang and Parannoul just makes it all work. Riding these risky musical ideas that both acts are willing to do, and create an exciting endeavor where those risks are rewarded tremendously, intersecting their creative worlds where they know which parts of their ideas will work and proceed to experiment even further outside of their comfort zone that also manages to stick the landing in a remarkable fashion. ‘Double Bind’ showcases this toast of ideas clearly, with the first half lurking within the familiar bit-crushed soundscape from Fax Gang with PK Shellboy’s vocals rummaging through that chaos, just before it slowly and sleekly transitions to the usual fractured distortion from Parannoul’s part on the back half that also has a jersey club rhythm implemented within, displaying familiar pieces of sound that work around with newer facets of experimentation. This experimentation continues further all across the project, from ‘Quiet’ where PK Shellboy joins within the crisp and bulky alt-rock palette that’s clearly Parannoul’s signature wheelhouse but is wrapped around with warping synths, ‘Lullaby for a Memory’ with the jaunty array of rapid organic breakbeats, wistful synth progressions, and galloping crescendos that spearthrows itself into the skies, ‘Wrong Signal’ where the warbling production creates a cacophonous black hole for Mudd the student of Balming Tiger and PK Shellboy to break through with anxious performances just before the production clears up into a danceable but still suffocating beat, ‘Circular Motion’ takes a mellower tone where both PK Shellboy and Parannoul’s vocals are cushioned within the spare lilting synths and chalky percussion that eventually collapses into a charged EDM instrumental passage that bolts to the end of the song, and ‘Soliloquy’ may as well be the absolute charming cut from album – filled with glorious melodic progressions that can fit into a rhythm game song selection as the sweeping drums and synths glimmer before it cracks and dishevels as it moves along, even adding a random jazz sample that swivels into the cut’s last ecstatic chorus. And even despite ‘Ascension’ and ‘Scattersun’ paling off for different reasons – with the first song that could’ve expanded upon its harmonies and the second song that could’ve sharpened parts of its transitions and melodies, they still manage to land with aplomb as the former cut’s fleeting calmness creaks from its fuzzy textures that never overshadow the performances of every vocalist – gatka’s soothing vocals especially – and the latter cut’s attempt on creating a 10-minute plugging, cloud rap, and drill epic is nothing short of impressive in just going along on that idea and just making it happen. This overall scale is also reinforced within the writing of the record, taking a grand leap as Fax Gang and Parannoul return back into exploring humanistic existential dread that they find themselves lurking within, all with an embrace of abstract metaphors that expound the exhausting emotions even more. There is a desperation to cling to the brighter future that they try to reach as much as possible even despite all the murk that keeps on piling up more and more each day, intensifying the anxious dread that they want to avoid for their sake. Yet it is an attempt of avoidance that they cannot do successfully anymore, especially with the doomed tone displayed on cuts like ‘Wrong Signal’ where internet doom-scrolling will continue to display the destructive parts of reality that they can’t risk to not care about anymore. Thus, it overall colors the bleak aspects within these deeper reflections, whether that be having to mature and moving past their inner child on ‘Lullaby for a Memory’, reaching out to friends and trying to help them out even if they themselves are dealing with their own struggles on ‘Ascension’, and just how accepting a defeatist mindset due to the constant effects of isolation, aging, and ennui in this devastating world soon collapses upon ‘Scattersun’, the darkest cut in the album as there is a realization where the process of reflecting through these harrowing moments don’t seem to make sense anymore and is easier to just find some release in self-harm – a dour thought that’s compounded from the continuous wallowing that pushes everybody else away, and leaves them struggling with not knowing who they are anymore. Eventually concluding on the aptly titled ‘Circular Motion’ as the null in this negative state of mind will persist, a stillness that may never be broken apart where loneliness seems to be the only relief for all of this. As a whole, there is an astoundment that swings around Scattersun and all of its elements. A collaboration that tries to break out of their comfort zone where Fax Gang and Parannoul embrace their wildly varied musical components and
TRACK REVIEW: Squaretoe – Subzero
Written by Louis Pelingen There is a chilling mist that Squaretoe – the trip-hop duo consisting of Mazerboy and Maggie – conjures within this newest cut as it immerses deeper in a glacial tone. Through its flickering synth pads, needle-sharp drum machines, and saturated guitar mixes swirling around Maggie’s haunting vocals that loom and bend around the general mix, it creates a dream-smeared atmosphere that drowns into gloomy moodscapes. Ever so carried along with the spare writing presenting a lingering cruelty that lurks deeper, a feeling that Maggie’s dreamy performance effectively brings as her voice rings all across the song. There is an assured quality that Squaretoe brings to ‘Subzero’ in an immediate way, sinking deeper into more layers of atmosphere that the duo lurks in slow, but curious spaces of mercurial triphop and frosty electronica. Overall resulting in the fleshed-out sonic ideas on the production and compositional side amplifying the atmosphere to a certain degree even if the briefness of this cut feels like the duo is still testing out where they would go in the future. Still, it’s potent enough to move the temperature to its freezing point, letting that sullen dread nestle in its unmoving place. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Munimuni – Alegorya
Written by Louis Pelingen 5 years after its release, Kulayan Natin is quite the impressive musical landmark for the quintet band Munimuni. Not just because of the breadth of melodic phrasing and comfortable aura that it provides, but the fact that Munimuni was able to put their spin on progressive folk in the local scene and push the sound a little further where the rustic compositions unfold in a fascinatingly majestic fashion that allows the beauty of the emotional resonance from the poetry and performances to captivate with aplomb. However, the band has experienced bumps on the road, taking a needed hiatus due to the isolating lockdown in 2020 and TJ de Ocampo leaving after the band’s comeback in 2021. Since then, the band has taken their time to ruminate what had transpired beforehand as they carefully kept putting more songs on the road as well as adding their new member Ben Ayes in 2023 to contribute more flourish to the band’s instrumental beauty. All of this culminates in the long-awaited sophomore album of Munimuni, Alegorya, and how it mostly retains the progressive tapestries that are usually filled with wondrous melodic swells and buildups that end in fantastic quality, courtesy of the delicate array of woodwinds and acoustics that are twinkling as ever. But there is a shift in the compositions and performances this time around. Adj Jiao’s singing tries to push his vocals in more expressive ranges to pair off with the compositions that have more groove and textures taken from modern indie rock which makes the melodies more tasteful in their direction to go for more immediate swerves, a direction that can become a double-edged sword, especially when the production makes the textures and mixing bit too modestly pristine and tame for its own good and the melodic stripes all across the album may carry some of their usual dynamic progressive tapestries but don’t have the same impactful heft that the band managed to pull together back on their debut album. It doesn’t mean the band doesn’t carry it well enough as they still create flickers of melodic charm. The lilting air of “Sikat ng Araw” is soothing as the vocal harmonies, blurry guitars, and winsome flute melodies are soaked with a warm aura around it, Adj’s vocals build the sense of assured realization as he picks up more bombast on Alegorya, the layered melodic progressions on “Paraiso” successfully leads up to the frenetic solo guitar melody careening off at the end, the overwhelming instrumental freakout on “Alpa” is a welcome surprise as it slowly composes itself before it soars up to the skies with an ecstatic blaze, and the spare acoustics and flutes gliding around Adj Jiao and Barbie Almalbis’ gorgeous vocal harmonies on “Tupa” are terrific even if it could’ve been extended so the string section can have more presence to add more emotional swell to their harmonies instead of being used to accent the atmosphere at the very end of the song. The emotions that were written in the poetry also took a flip as well. Unlike the comforting tones that were embedded all across their debut, this album generally delves into musings of frustration and melancholy. Emotions that put the band in a state of creative burnout on “Respeto’, which eventually leads to the subsequent pieces of writing to feel like an exploration within that gloomy space, providing an introspection towards understanding the range of emotional raft in addition to the existential reflection towards love, life, and identity. All of these are tied together through the imagery of a cave that may serve as the metaphorical personal journey of the band’s introspective process, one that allows the insight and realization to parse through their mind but can also become a limit when it becomes a hideaway that never allows them to move past that melancholy. Yet, amidst all of that sorrow, there is still a consistent cling on yearning to the aspect of love, a presence that despite all odds, gives them hope to move on forward to that dark abyss and come out feeling much better at the end. Creating an emotional throughline that does have its resonance, yet the use of details and imagery could’ve been pushed forward, allowing the moving quality to be intensified as there are spots in the lyricism where the simplistic phrasings don’t exactly support the internal emotional insight that the performances and compositions try to sell. Moving into and out of the darkness, Alegorya pivots around with its sound, performances, and writing to create reflective pieces of the personal struggle that the band works through, pieces that eventually hold together when the specks of melodies and writing manage to stick the landing. As much as parts of the compositions open up the emotions to poignant places, the exploration of this pathos is less stellar, where the production, poetry, and progressions have a semblance of restraint that hides that poignancy rather than open it up much more. The allegory of this journey may be well-defined, but there is a hushness that keeps the feelings from echoing astoundingly. Support the art & the artist:
TRACK REVIEW: UDD – Run Deep
Written by Louis Pelingen After Armi Millare left UDD when that was announced back in 2021, the question now hangs in the air: what happens next for UDD? After 20 years as a band that mainly flocks in alternative rock with dabbles of electronica alongside Armi’s evocative vocals, this leaves the curious thought of where the band will go next. Will they keep moving forward with the usual formula intact? Or is there going to be a shift in their overall sound palette, shedding their past and evolving with a refreshing lens? The answer to that very question lies with “Run Deep,” the comeback single that’s now honing deeper into pure synth-pop majesty, firmly brushing past the alternative rock sound that used to be UDD’s sonic territory, and diving deeper into the newer direction of blistering electronics that replaces the heavy use of glossy synth patches on their previous material with a different kind of coat. Creating a chilling, smoky atmospheric touch on the whirring house beat, smearing over Paul Yap’s dazed vocals as he glacially muses through love that never seems to transpire. The set of elements placed within this song creates an effective tune and tone, courtesy of the production that lets these synthetic textures carry a lot of weight as well as the melodic construction that builds up these mulling melodies into satisfying peaks. Overall, “Run Deep” is a chilling switch up to UDD’s formula that manages to stick the landing on the band’s next phase of operations. An exciting new chapter to where they will go over, running deeper into this electronic-tinged wonder that creates even more excitement than hesitation. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: U-Pistol – Last Splinter
Written by Louis Pelingen A decade after he first popped up in the local music scene, Zeon Gomez has worn many masks under his belt through the multitudes of projects and collectives that he has worked on and contributed with, overall showcasing him as a jack of all trades within the local musical circles, namely his other side project Promote Violence; bands like Rome and the Cats, Moon Mask, Spirit Ocean; and collectives like YoungLiquidGang, and BuwanBuwanCollective. Through these jumping points that Zeon has taken from differing acts after another, an important part that needs to be acknowledged is that even as he flits across various side-projects, his knack for venturing within the waves of gleaming synth electronica, stirring pop melodies, and personal lyrical flair has always carried over, developed further under his main musical alias: U-Pistol. Through his first two albums in the 2010s, his ambition to embrace those characteristics above is shown in their clearest sights, not to mention the features spanning from Sarah Bonito, Aseul, Yikii, and others that reveal his firm stance towards curating Asian artists as he was deeply invested with J-Pop, K-Pop, and C-pop during the time. While he hasn’t donned that mask quite often in the 2020s as he slowly starts working behind the scenes through the music prod Kashira, his growth as an artist over time hints at a sonic shift waiting to happen, especially with his embrace of hip-hop under the U-Pistol and Promote Violence namesakes. 8 years since he put out his last material, Last Splinter is the 3rd long-awaited installment under U-Pistol’s discography, careening through sonic foundations that he propped up in his past projects like “Waste” and “Girlfriend,” but the overall showcase of his brand of synth gleaming electronica has now matured, branching off into an evolved version of his style. Underneath the glassy synth works are an array of elements that create a genre-shifting project where past aspects of his past projects now manifest here, further bringing in blaring guitars and shuffling rhythms that only hone in U-Pistol’s great strength towards creating snappy hip-hop and pop melodies amidst propulsive production within the project’s 35-minute runtime. His performances on ‘Glass Garden’ and ‘Hortensia’ in particular are remarkable, his mellifluous range as he silkily flows across the feet-shuffling soundscape of the former and tenderly sings on the somber acoustics of the latter shows that he has exceeded as a rapper and a singer. Of course, it’s not a U-Pistol project without a collage of collaborations helping out in this project, settling more towards the local music scene, an intended decision that gets reflected through a specific part of the eventual narrative. Fellow Kashira prod members like Calix and Tatz Maven help crystallize a lot of the colorful instrumental soundscapes as well as the sonic clarity of the project; Hanako and Syn under the old Spirit Ocean band lend their vocals, where Hanako’s prim voice assists on the tuneful albeit instrumentally clunky “Blue-Eyed Grass” and Syn’s stark performance on the reworked version of a previously released Spirit Ocean track “Marigold, in the Afternoon” with additional guitar work from Arkyalina carries the exhausted yearning of the track; VS VIDEOTAPES’ and yx2’s co-production on the light and fuzzy textures of “VS VIDEOTAPES INTERLUDE” and the jersey club groove of “Plum Blossom” respectively are exciting additions that manages to blend within the consistent production scope of the album, allowing the melodies to bounce and fizz a bit more; SHNTI’s sense of effortless cool works in-tandem with U-Pistol’s sleek flows on “Wisteria” and its scratchy beat as “Wilting, if Forever Never Comes” tailors the thematic arc of the project. The sense of maturation eventually sneaks through in the overall narrative of the project. Conceptualized around the masked man in his glass garden waiting for a certain flower to bloom that acts as a metaphor for U-Pistol’s self-isolation post-break-up, it paints a familiar theme that he has waded upon on his past projects. Namely surrounding the wilted romance that he still yearns and clings to, a connection that he wishes to keep sparking despite knowing that the ex in question now has somebody else entirely. It’s a situation that leaves him conflicted and hurt, the angst pulling him deeper and deeper into melancholy. Yet as the album progresses, he gently picks up past the heartbreak and eventually decides to leave the entire situation as he notices that there’s no benefit in waiting for that flower to bloom. It’s a vivid arc that U-Pistol portrays effortlessly, yet the personal emotional nuance is deepened a little bit further, specifically directed toward the collaborations he pulled in for this project. In ‘The Chained Man Inside the Glass Garden’ interlude specifically, there are these various murmurs from multiple people that call out to Zeon, expressing worry towards his state of ennui, asking him to hang out and telling him if he’s feeling alright. These voices that were heard don’t come from strangers but are the friends, collaborators, and various people that Zeon knew and bonded with personally in his life, placing their overall presence in this specific interlude as an acknowledgment of the support that Zeon has during this eventful turmoil and seeing him not through the U-Pistol name and his various musical works, but under Zeon as the person that they know and care about deeply. It’s a small moment that does so much, recognizing the number of people that Zeon cares about as he acknowledges how much they’ve helped him back in his life, overall making the collaborations of this project feel so much more personally heartfelt and synergistic. And with that comes the project’s overall blast of sonic mixtures and a case of strong foundations embellished with the well-placed blending of sound textures, styles, and performances from U-Pistol & co paired with neatly arranged compositions and familiar yet deeply invested emotional throughline. As U-Pistol leaves outside of that glass garden, there is another field that opens more space for him to flourish in. Last Splinter
ALBUM REVIEW: juan karlos – Sad Songs and Bullshit Part 1
Written by Louis Pelingen The recent meteoric success of Juan Karlos stemming from one of the singles on their recent release, “ERE,” – enough to build enough traction to debut at no. 177 on the global Spotify charts – signifies how ingrained he has been in the local scene for the past couple of years. Despite some shaky conflicts that occurred before, when he eventually stepped into the broader swells of pop rock carried through his emotive delivery and songwriting ever since he and his band started off with ‘Buwan,’ it garnered widespread interest for Juan Karlos to keep going along on their overall grand yet simultaneously dull and stilted sound. It is a sound that is starting to feel rather frustratingly overdone in recent memory, expansive and well-produced but lacking in interesting songwriting throughlines. Despite the success, the band’s new entry in their catalog is deeply entrenched in post-breakup frustrations Juan Karlos has gone through, laying down these love songs initially written for a compilation that eventually became rather bullshit to him after his breakup last year. Hence, these melancholic songs are now packaged on Sad Songs and Bullshit Part 1, the first installment of a two-parter project dipped in a baffling release strategy to slice the 18 written songs into two parts instead of picking the strongest songs to make a focused release (even if this strategy has started to work for the band given the success of “ERE”) all centered on amping up the overall display of catharsis from this heartbreak. This project is confident in putting up these raw emotions in the open, presenting an attempt from Juan Karlos to make it closely personal as he belts out strings of crowd-ready hooks toward this post-breakup narrative that has struck the mainstream local scene time and time again. Yet, to be blunt, this approach starts to hit clumsy and route results, where the blatant move to lean towards the 2000s era sonic palette from the instrumental tones just falls short in a lot of its ideas, where there aren’t that any interesting swerves on either melodies or production. The other reasons this record does not stick come from Juan Karlos’ vocals and songwriting, where his emotional bellows start to get overbearing, and his songwriting leaves nothing but the surface-level poetry surrounding him circling around the heartbreak in a self-important framing. His shouty croons on the pop rock swell of “Time Machine” and “ERE” become a head-scratcher, especially with the latter track where his delivery of the profanity on the hook only sounded silly rather than convincing. The acoustic heartbreak reflection on “Lumisan” is a bland Ben&Ben takeaway due to those vocal melodies. And the adult-contemporary cut of “Manhid” is nothing short of anything special despite the well-produced shuffling melodies. But the tracks that make this overall narrative quite sour are the piano ballads “may halaga pa ba ako sayo??” and “Tapusin Na Natin To” featuring Paolo Benjamin, from the details that only imply a guarded deflection on dealing with this heartbreak to Juan Karlos’ vocalization at its very worst, tends to push further to the point of being obnoxiously overdramatic. And those tracks eventually color a lot about the record, even with the gorgeous Sufjan Stevens-esque acoustics of “Gabi” featuring Zild and “Paruparo” or the communal vocals that help elevate the title track. Whatever quality they do have just gets stifled overall. Stacked to the gills with uninteresting elements culminating in a lackluster project coming from the soundscape that leans on 2000s sonic aesthetics without any interesting melodic or instrumental flair, vocal emotionality that only gets overdone and annoying, and, of course, songwriting circling around reflections on Juan Karlos’s past relationship delivered with a pompous and shallow affair that serves to deflect around it. Though given the title itself, it sure is rather apt to call it that, an album with many underwhelming sad songs and a lot of self-important bullshit. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Gabba – Recollections
Written by Louis Pelingen Constraints can be a demotivator towards an artist’s own journey towards creation, whether that be due to the limitations that they’ve struggled through either the environment that they’re in during a specific point of time, the collaborations with other creatives that need a specific amount of mutual understanding to follow through their output, or the sudden frustrations within one’s own capability as an artist. Because whether reasons that may be, the one thing that an artist wants as they grow older is to let go of the stirring process to create and allow that spontaneous liberties to flow through; allowing them to be at ease in every step of the creative process just to make something that still shows that they still got it. After 2 years of going through creative frustrations himself, Gabba Santiago of Instrumental post-rock and prog-rock band Deb & Gabba (FKA Tom’s Story) takes a different tact towards creating his solo debut album, where his process for collaboration and composition has a lot more free rein that allows for a lot of creative liberties. A kind of tact that treats the making of music more as an expression of Gabba’s own imaginative spirit with a lot of casual, back-and-forth exchanges with his collaborators as well as letting his creative mind do the talking when it’s time for him to make the melodies in this record. Letting spontaneous ideas bubble up rather than leaning into a calculated mode of music-making. It circulates all in ‘Recollections’ being an album that celebrates Gabba’s personal freeing joy in creating music as well as serving as a sonic diaristic journey towards his life experiences. And true to its name, the album does have a lot of blends in terms of tones, dynamics, and textures that lay into Gabba’s technical musicianship and the collaborations that helped along with the project. The Math Rock riffs and pulsating rhythms of ‘Overcurrent’ and ‘Puzzle’ swivel through the post-rock sensibilities, not breaking them apart as the added presence of synthesizers as well as Clara Benin’s vocals on a couple of songs makes a lot of those fiery guitar and drum patterns to be a lot more comforting and loose. The same thing goes for ‘Woodcraft’ with the Saxophone playing by Miguel Jimenez with its calming tone that eventually accompanies the soaring progressions in the latter half of the song, the buzzy synth tones that slide around Bea Lao’s shuffling drum work on ‘Linear’, and the frenetic drum patterns that drive around the low-key atmosphere of ‘Paradigm’. While the record presents a lot of calming soundscapes all throughout the record, Gabba also embraces a lot of progressive rock swerves that allow his joy to be immense in scope. The crashing drums and expressive guitar riffings of ‘Zoomies’ certainly do their work, especially with its brief 2-minute runtime. And the distorted guitar tones that are present on ‘Fury’ and ‘Coastline’ certainly end the record on a high note where the former song imbues the unwinding melodies with an erupting edge, all with crumbling riffs and sneering noise; the latter song sweeps the meditative melodies and mix with the echoing guitars letting out one more emotive charge just before it calms down in the end, the eventual calm after the storm. It certainly has a lot to offer given the amount of tones, collaborations, and textures that are sewn into this record and Gabba certainly had a lot of fun making this in the studio, but there are some issues that can either be distracting or underwhelming. On the former instance, it’s mostly towards the mixing of the record, where a lot of the drum and guitar fidelities can sound haphazard from track to track even if it makes sense due to the composed feel that this record is providing, but it can still be quite the frustration every time it pops up. And on the latter instance, there are certain experimentations on the additions of sound that could’ve been implemented into these songs a lot better, as some of the synth and vocal implementations are there for fleeting texture rather than adding a lot more to the melodies of these songs as well as the fuzzy drum machines that may add a different tone from the organic percussions laced throughout the record but can sound flimsy than it should be. The shorter interludes like ‘Goofy’ and ‘Layout’ don’t do much in the tracklist at all with their repeating motifs that only thin out in the end. ‘Fridge Magnets’, ‘Quiver’, and ‘Interim’ also have their weak spots, where the progressions that settle into that calming atmosphere don’t open up into intriguing transitions or switch-ups alongside texture over melody soundscapes make them sound unremarkable than the others. And then there is ‘Here Now’ where despite the presence of the keys and the electronica that tilt at the end of the song, it’s one of the instances where that lilting presence ends up being a bit more hamfisted as a result. Gabba’s solo debut is an effort that shows a lot of strengths as a result of him finding a freeing process of making music, sharing ideas with his collaborators in a much more casual manner, and letting the music be a celebration and an inspiration for himself and for others as well. It may be a collection of songs that have their high points and low points, though it also pretty much feels like reading through a diary where you’re able to see how that person is going through, joys and frustrations and all. While it is frustrating at a few spots due to the haphazard mix, meager sonic implementation, and bland melodies, to hear Gabba feeling a lot more joyous and explorative within the record through the amount of variety of sounds and styles does shine through a lot. A starting point for sure, “Recollections” is a record that’s led to its highs rather than lows. Support the art & the artist:
ALBUM REVIEW: Noa Mal – The Anatomy Of Emotional Hijacking
Written by Louis Pelingen Starting around 2019 and onwards, no one is putting in the amount of output that Noa Mal has churned out year after year. In other parts of the world, there are a lot of artists like Noa Mal wherein they’re getting a widespread reputation due to how many projects they can consistently release – think King Gizzard & The Lizard Wizard, Viper, and the smattering of obscure electronic, folk, and black metal acts that have that artistic capacity to just brute force their way into a year with 3 or more projects done – looking into the local scene, there is no one like Noa Mal at this current moment. And despite carrying that sort of reputation might be interesting and outstanding to some, that can also be the kind of title that can get frustrating and lead to bigger expectations. Mostly because, with that brand of ‘quantity over quality’ release cycle being stretched over in the consecutive years, the worries surrounding sonic and thematic retreads; lack of surprises in the formula; and meager interest towards improvements across the board will come up more and can lead to going through that kind of discography to be daunting and may end up being less interesting when those boxes are ticked off. Now, after going through Noa Mal’s entire discography, the results can be a mixed blessing. While her brand of lo-fi grunge rock and slowcore comfort zone definitely mesh together easily – her gloomy topicality surrounding relationships and personal angst starts to get extremely thin due to her plain way of writing as well as persistent mixing and mastering issues that doesn’t allow the recordings to blend altogether – there are projects that do show her improving on the composition and production front. ‘Everything Is Science, Baby’ is a good starting point as it best represents Noa Mal’s sound across the board, which you can then follow up on her other 2022 released records like ‘My Corrupted Hard Drive’ that leans on the softer grunge and slowcore cuts and ‘Fear Fiction’ for some synth implementations that she’d eventually explore even further just this year with ‘Suspended Animation’. Going through with her tradition, ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ is her 3rd record that she released this 2023, just after the volume and banger heavy ‘Holy Hour’ and the synthetic drum and synth-inflected ‘Suspended Animation’. It continues to retain Noa Mal’s compositional strengths on the record, from the moody drenched ‘The Actress’ where Noa Mal’s prim vocal lines work well with the wavering guitar licks and percussion beats, the trudging indie rock of ‘Luci’ and ‘Deeply Tinted Glasses’ as the former staggers through due to the quicker flash of melodies alongside these carefree vocal lines and the latter coasts through grungier guitar lines that adds into the smoked out vibe of the track, the sunnier indie rock of ‘Dance For Me, Puppet!’ with the gliding vocal melodies amidst the stable fuzzy drums and brighter guitar lines, and the tempered acoustics of ‘Sepanx ka nanaman’ that brings an open space away from the numbness of the moment. As said before, with her writing surrounding numbing cycles of relationships and personal angst that has gotten stale that doesn’t give her a lot of favors at this point, the writing this time opens up Noa Mal’s writing scope as there are a couple of songs that provide more context towards the relationship that eventually fluctuates before it even started. The universal sorrow of ‘Luci’ that tackles the loss of everything and everyone as well as the social exhaustion of Noa Mal’s generation represented through Luci is an example of this that continues further with ‘Dance for me, Puppet!’ through the puppet metaphors as well as the glancing subtext of familial disappointment on certain tracks like ‘Intro: Hijacked’, ‘My Golden Town’, and ‘Sepanx Ka Nanaman’. These moments do add more to Noa Mal’s dulled-out relationship throughout the record like the tiring cycles of everyone showing her how to love on ‘The Actress’ which eventually colors how the numbness that she feels creates a different tone to the “love songs” of ‘The One Who Really…’ and ‘My Golden Town’. Songs may have this emotionally intimate tone to them, but given the context of social exhaustion from her peers and the personal dullness from all the cycling relationships, it’s now put into darker framing wherein Noa’s numbness has now bordered into irrationality, making the relationship an emotional hijacking that she eventually disposes away on ‘Sepanx Ka Nanaman’ and eventually succumbs to more layers of numbness that makes her feel free at the very end. Despite the strengths that Noa Mal has honed in on this record, the mixing of the record does get a bit uneven, more so the guitars and drums that do peak on the mix. While this issue does permeate on her 1st 2023 record, ‘Holy Hour’, it is at least consistent in terms of how loud it can be that does get compensated with punchy grunge melodies just flooding through and through, while ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ takes those grunge melodies with a sunny like flair that does need more balance on the mix. And despite her writing that does work a lot more in this record, it did stumble on ‘Angel of Romantic Death’ with the plainspoken metaphors that may show Noa Mal’s agency but just ends up being clunky as a result. But overall, ‘The Anatomy of Emotional Hijacking’ might not feel special in Noa Mal’s ever-growing discography at first glance even if the composition still does come off as developed, the writing and emotional throughline on the relationship Noa Mal is presenting here offers a different layer and side of her style and framing thus far. A lot more tangled and is paired with an extra set of context around it that does broaden Noa Mal’s skill as a writer given her plain style of writing hasn’t stuck out much in her past records. It’s very